


A lot, a little

by tanga_talaga (orphan_account)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9783593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tanga_talaga
Summary: I said what I said, he shoots back along with that look that tells him to "Obey."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For tumblr user deokspatch (:

I admire you a lot my dear  
A lot, a lot  
I can do so little, so little  
You're capable of so much you do so much  
But I worry for you a tiny bit  
I hope you relax in busy times  
Even a tiny bit  
Usually I think so little of myself  
So little, so little  
(So little it's nothing)  
But I'm proud to be yours  
I hope you know I love you a lot, a lot

_9999999999999999999999_

We are camping and the stars above us are turning imperceptibly, winkingly, and everything–well, but for us, the roaring bonfire, and a woody slip of his guitar peeking curiously our way–it all sat swallowed in the pitch of the night. Somehow I am brave, not the cocky brave but the breathless. Yet I take his hand and slowly, like the vocal coach taught me, slowly I breathe the words from my chest, let it fill my nose and flow from my mouth. Tomas Mendez’s ` _Cucurrucucu Paloma_ ` fills the encampment.

===================================  
**_A lot, a little  
_**_—bi-minhyuk_

He regrets that they have to part, that their work schedules couldn’t harmonize this one Memorial Day weekend where usually the fates are more merciful. He’s never had as fun a camping trip to any other park, State or National. The trail they took around the canyon the first day, the comforting hollowness of the desert rock surrounding them, the way he pressed his back to the little covert bit of shadow they had found as they kissed. The only issue had been food. He didn’t like sweating, and he definitely prefered to relax and avoid doing a damn thing when his knee had started hurting–on his vacation! the nerve!–but upon returning to camp the realization that all the perishable food they’d prepared was well past expiration had set his preferences to naught. And sometimes when this happens words leave him, but he knows. The man takes his soft hand and ruffles his head maternally–the way he often does things–and he ups and drives an hour to the nearest Wal-Mart in the growing dark . It was cruel, that they only had one more night and one more afternoon left here.

I just–

It’s okay, he says as the car door slams behind him, there’s Coke in the back.

He draws up, confused. HIS health freak, bringing HIM soda? So-? -Da? What did you say?

I said what I said, he shoots back along with that look that tells him to “Obey.”

Annoyance, a very slight annoyance, but he sucks his teeth and wraps his claws into the doorhandle, pulls open and–

Hhhhh!!

He’s laughing as the Very Audible Gasp echoes about, preparing their pot of already boiling water. Hurry up and grab the Kraft Dinner and the cups and the–the plates, I had to run to get those before the manager threatened to close the entire store on me–

I think you’re forgetting one fucking thing man! He screeches at him. I can’t believe you bought K.F.–

Chicken for the chicken legged boy. Of course.

_9999999999999999999999_

**Author's Note:**

> [Here’s a clip of the song mentioned!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qjot_FFIZE&feature=youtu.be&list=PL3Y6PbCDnXio0ugdusrPUV8FDCwCZBZZl) And what it means in English:
> 
> They say that at nights  
> He simply went through by just crying  
> They say that he wasn’t eating  
> It simply didn’t suit him just taking (some food)  
> They swear that the sky itself  
> Was vibrating by listening his weeping  
> How he was suffering for her,  
> And even when he was dying he was calling at her:
> 
> Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing  
> Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was wailing  
> Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing  
> He was dying from mortal passion.
> 
> [They say] that a sad dove  
> Very early in the morning will sing  
> At the lonely house  
> Whose small doors are widely open  
> They swear that this dove  
> Is no other (thing) than his soul,  
> That is still waiting  
> For the unhappy (woman) to return.
> 
> Cucurrucucú dove, cucurrucucú don’t cry.  
> The stones? Never, dove,  
> What will they know of love?
> 
>  
> 
> [cr.](http://lyricstranslate.com/en/Cucurrucucu-Paloma-Cucurrucucu-Paloma.html)


End file.
